


Take Care

by Thatswherethelightgetsin



Category: The Mighty Boosh RPF
Genre: Drinking, Fights, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, drug taking, supportive julian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:14:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22133878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatswherethelightgetsin/pseuds/Thatswherethelightgetsin
Summary: “Julian’s good in a crisis. He’s very wise.”—A few times Julian’s looked after Noel
Relationships: Julian Barratt/Noel Fielding
Comments: 13
Kudos: 40





	Take Care

**Author's Note:**

> Here are some snippets I wrote last year. I’m posting because I’m trying to ease back into writing. Hope you enjoy. There’s an alternative ending where they’re together but I wasn’t sure about it, so left it as is.

“You’re a sickly little thing, aren’t you?”

The words seemed to have lodged in his brain, as so much of what Julian said to him in those early years did, all coming together like a giant scrap book of how Julian saw him, and in many ways, how Noel came to see himself. Julian was building him, piece by piece, through stray observations.

“No I ain’t,” he’d grumbled at the time, sniffing and rubbing at his nose. “Maybe I’m just allergic to you. Being around you makes me sick.”

Julian had laughed. “Well, we’re never going to get commissioned in that case. Better to just call the whole thing off now.”

“Nah.” Noel shook his head. “We gotta make our millions first. Then we can have a massive falling out over money and never speak again.”

“Hmmmm,” Julian said. “I guess you’re probably right.” He paused his typing and looked at Noel over the laptop and squinted.

Noel tried not to fidget. It shouldn't matter that Julian was staring at him, his little eyes calculating. He’d been staring at Noel like that since the day they met, it shouldn’t make him want to squirm, sit up straighter and fluff his hair. He didn’t need to prove anything to Julian. Only, he felt like he did. Whatever Julian was seeing apparently didn’t please him because he sighed softly and placed the laptop down next to him on the bed.

Noel barely had time to jump before a massive hand connected with his forehead. Julian didn’t really touch him. Not since that first night in his flat, and it made Noel want to flush, recoil, lean in and sigh happily all at once. Instead he held himself stiffly, not sure what he ought to do.

“You’re really warm,” Julian said after a moment, looking vaguely concerned and slightly put out at the same time. Julian was basically a bag of twitchy strangeness and contradictory emotions. Noel thought it was either intriguing or irritating depending on their moods.

He was about to point out that Julian didn’t know anything about medicine when the other man smiled softly at him, killing the words on his tongue.

“Maybe you should have a nap,” Julian said. “I can make soup; it’s the one thing my mum taught me how to cook. If I don’t burn the place down we can have dinner and then finish off.”

Noel had smiled. He did feel pretty rubbish and wasn’t about to turn down the offer of a nap in Julian’s massive bed any more than he was having a home cooked meal. Julian grinned and ruffled his hair before getting off the bed and heading to the bedroom door. Noel watched him go before awkwardly lying down, not sure if he could even be bothered to use the pillows or not.

That wasn’t the first time Julian had taken care of him, and it certainly wasn’t the last.

***

The first time it was because Noel was tired. He’d thought he knew what that felt like when he was in uni. He’d always been a morning person; there was just too so much he wanted to do for him to waste time with something as trivial as sleep. Sometimes that meant he’d only stumbled to bed a couple of hours before he was hauling himself back out of it, but that didn’t matter. He’d prided himself on being pretty good without sleep, and if he needed some extra, he’d catch a few winks on a bus, or someone’s sofa.

Then one day he’d woken up and realised that he was yellow. His skin looked like something out of a horror movie - his eyes too. Dave had insisted that he go and get it checked out immediately, as if Noel needed to be told that he wasn’t meant to look like the living dead.

Hepatitis.

The moment the word was out of the doctor’s mouth Noel felt cold all over and then too hot. His skin prickled uncomfortably.

That was serious.

Couldn’t you die from it?

People didn’t tend to die, it turned out, but it did mean six months of recovery and no caffeine or alcohol - he wasn’t even allowed chocolate - for a year.

But that was fine really. He’d gotten over not being able to drink on nights out pretty quickly. It was like having a super power, learning how to have fun without stimulants. And being different wasn’t a problem either, that was just a source of pride at this point. No, missing alcohol wasn’t the problem. It was the being tired all the time that got to him. Just when he thought he was better, he’d try to work again and his body would just give out on him. 

If he could just learn to stop worrying so much it would be better, he knew, but it felt like everything was slipping away from him. He didn’t have the time to be lying around, useless on the sofa, while everyone else got jobs and started making a name for themselves. Just the thought of everything he was missing out on made his chest tight with nervous energy.

It got better. He got better. Slowly, so slowly, that sometimes he wanted to scream. But, he could never be sure when he was going to suddenly have a relapse. He’d feel fine for ages, months and months, and then suddenly he wasn’t right. Suddenly he was so tired that he couldn’t keep his eyes open any more.

He hated it and it made the first few times he wrote with Julian even more fraught than they would have already been. It didn’t help that they’d stay up really late when they wrote. Or rather nearly writing. It seemed to take them ages to warm up, to be able to come up with anything that seemed to be worth writing down. Plus Noel had no idea how to write with someone else, how he ought to suggest lines, disagree or build on something Julian was suggesting. Julian was no help of course. He’d worked with loads of people but he wasn’t giving Noel any hints about how to go about it. But then, if he was asking Noel to help him write a script for Channel 4, perhaps it hadn’t gone any better with those other people.

He snuck a quick look at the clock. It was only 4pm but it felt like they’d been at it for hours and hours. He kept staring at the pillows, a million miles away at the end of the bed.

“Are you okay?” Julian asked, looking at him suddenly and making him jump embarrassingly.

“Huh?” Noel said, blinking. Had he been asleep? Julian seemed closer than he’d been moments before.

“Were you asleep?” Julian looked caught between intrigue, concern and annoyance. So, not dissimilar to how he often looked at him.

“No,” he said, feeling his face heat. “I was just praying.”

“Meditating?” Julian asked, his lips quirking. “Who are you? Martin Luther?”

Noel laughed, the sound punching out from his gut. Julian’s ability to make him do that was still so surprising that he didn’t know how to respond. He wanted to return the feeling but he’d get tangled with excitement and not be able to get the words out.

“Do you need a break?” Julian asked after a moment, his forehead creased in concern.

The idea that Julian might actually care made his chest feel funny. Perhaps that’s why he told him the truth. “I got ill last year - hepatitis. That’s why I don’t drink.” Julian’s face continued to crease and Noel hurried on, “I’m totally fine! I just get tired sometimes. It’s well annoying, but I just need to rest and then I’m fine.”

A lot people didn’t seem to know what to say when Noel told them he was sick, they frowned in sympathetically and changed the subject; he’d always hated it, but seeing the expression slide across Julian’s face made him feel a bit sick. Julian already thought he was a little kid that didn’t know anything, the last thing he needed was to add ill and feeble to the list.

“Seriously,” he said after a moment of continued silence, “it’s nothing. I’m just saying it’s not that you’re boring. Well, you are, but that’s not why I’m falling asleep.”

Julian watched him for a long moment before shrugging a shoulder and going back to his pad. Noel blinked slowly at him, feeling relieved that Julian didn’t probe further, but as the tension slowly ebbed away it left him more tired than ever. He blinked slowly. Everything was going a bit fuzzy around the edges and it was making it hard to follow what Julian was saying.

He did his best to keep up, suggest ideas, but he was aware his contributions were getting further apart. Julian was probably moments away from tutting at him. Perhaps if he was lying down it would help, his body seemed too heavy to keep upright and if he lay down, there’d be one less thing to concentrate on and he could devote more energy to Julian. He shifted until he was mostly horizontal. Julian’s eyes flicked to him but he didn’t comment.

Noel relaxed.

He blinked.

Julian was still looking down at his pad, a frown etched between his eyes. 

He blinked again.

When he opened his eyes, Julian was lying next to him, his eyes closed.

“Huh?” Noel muttered.

Julian’s eyes opened slowly.

“Are you asleep?” Noel asked after a moment, confused. The world seemed unreal and hazy, he didn’t dream very often and so it was hard to tell if that’s what was happening. 

“Not anymore,” Julian answered, his voice low and creaky. It made Noel’s stomach go a bit strange and his face flush. Thankfully Julian had already closed his eyes again so he didn’t notice.

“Why?” Noel asked.

Julian frowned but didn’t open his eyes, instead reaching out a massive hand to land clumsily on Noel’s head. “Shhh,” he said. “Quiet time now.”

The giggle slipped out before he could do much about it, but it made Julian’s mouth quirk, so it was probably okay. “Quiet time,” he said, putting on a voice they’d been trying out earlier. “Nap times.”

“Nap times,” Julian mimicked, his eyes still stubbornly closed, but mouth now fully formed into a smile. Then he pressed down his hand on Noel’s face again, gently but firmly, before petting him once and pulling back. “Quiet times, nap times.”

“You’re a giant freak,” Noel whispered, but he was already closing his own eyes, lulled in part by Julian’s words but mostly because he was so tired he couldn’t have kept them open even if he wanted to. “You can’t suppress me into going to sleep, like I’m some sort of Disney Princess you’re tricking with a magic spell.”

Julian’s hand landed on his head again. It was oddly comforting. Noel smiled. “Nap times,” Julian muttered, but it was a little slurred this time. Perhaps Julian really was knackered. He’d looked tired when Noel arrived, but knackered hobo was Julian’s look so it was hard to tell.

But perhaps he could just rest his eyes for a moment. If it was what Julian wanted, then it was surely the polite thing to do. Perhaps it was even good for Julian, who was always complaining that he was a terrible sleeper. The thought was comforting and Noel relaxed. If it was good for Julian too, it probably didn’t matter that he was sick and couldn’t keep up. 

They woke hours later just in time for Noel to remember that he needed to meet his friends. There was no time for him to feel awkward about the fact they’d fallen asleep in the same bed. 

After that he didn’t feel awkward about lying down when he was tired. Julian just followed suit and if they slept Noel considered it a bonus for both of them. Sometimes one or other of them would get restless, only to have the other reach out and lay a hand on them. It helped. It became part of their routine: Work for hours and hours and then nap together before Noel had to dash off somewhere. There was never any need to talk about it, it just worked. 

Over time Noel seemed to associate Julian with sleep. It was nice. It made napping on the road much easier; wherever Julian was Noel could sleep. As long as he was within touching distance, or ideally as time went on, part of the surface he was sleeping on, Noel fell asleep almost immediately. Even standing up seemed to work just fine as long as Julian’s collarbone was there to rest on.

Julian seemed to accept this weird quirk with little more than a shrug. He never questioned Noel on it. The closest he got was bitching about how easy Noel seemed to find it to sleep. Noel never mentioned that that wasn’t entirely true. He didn’t have the words to explain that it was Julian’s particular magic that sent him to sleep, like nothing bad could happen when they were together.

****

Noel could *feel* Julian standing in the doorway but he didn’t look over. It was embarrassing enough that he was throwing up in his bathroom without seeing the look on his face. Then a fresh wave of heaves rolled over him and he lost all sense of space and time.

“Fuck me,” Julian said. “How can you fit that much sick inside your body? No wonder you’ve got to get rid of it.”

“Fuck off,” he managed.

“I just cleaned up your puke from my bedroom floor,” he said. “I’ll go where I want.”

“Oh God.” Noel wanted to curl into a ball and never look at Julian ever again. He wasn’t used to to drinking. He didn’t drink; he didn’t usually feel the need. He had no idea what possessed him to start the night before. He was heaving again before he managed to come up with anything more coherent than that. His stomach clenched painfully without achieving all that much. “I think I might die.”

Julian laughed. Noel was expecting something more mocking or perhaps just a stony silence. “Cheer up, princess,” he said. “It’s not so bad, drinking games with Northerners are a dangerous business; they’ve taken down much bigger men than you.”

He could hear Julian’s friends in the kitchen laughing and clattering about. Perhaps that was why he’d over done it. It wasn’t that Julian’s friends weren’t nice. They were. They’d been friendly, in a boisterous sort of way. But it had sort of felt like Noel was meeting his family, some sort of strange intialtion even though they’d been friends for over a year. He hadn’t wanted to embarrass him by not getting along with them. He was never any good at saying no and three drinks in when someone had suggested a game, it didn’t seem right to say no. He wasn’t sure how he’d even ended up at Julian’s and not at home; his memories got fuzzy after the fourth shot of Sambuca.

“How are you even standing?” he asked, managing to suppress the wave of retches as he turned his head.

Julian smiled at him. “I didn’t agree to a drinking game with neat vodka.”

He’d forgotten about the second game. The memory of it made it feel for a moment like he could taste the spirit again, making his stomach clench. He turned back to the toilet. “Fucker,” he managed between heaves and over Julian’s laughter.

“Come on,” Julian said suddenly, somehow much closer than he was a moment before. His hand was on Noel’s back, big and warm and comforting. “Let’s get you some more sleep.”

Noel wasn’t sure what he meant but then Julian was lifting him to his feet. He squinted at him, feeling small and shaky. He hated throwing up, always had. When he was little it had always made him cry and even now he felt embarrassingly close to it. He let Julian lead him back into his bedroom and crawled into the bed.

“Sorry for throwing up on your floor,” he whispered, embarrassment coiling hot and heavy in his stomach.

“You can think of something to repay me later,” Julian said, as he started picking up clothes from the night before. He didn’t sound mad at least.

“Okay,” Noel agreed. The bed was soft, especially compared to the tiled floor he’d been lying on for over an hour. He pulled one of the pillows to him tightly. It smelt like Julian. He closed his eyes and willed the room to stop spinning.

“There’s a bin by the bed,” Julian said softly. “Please try and aim for it next time.”

Noel wanted to make a joke or at least tell him to get fucked, but he didn’t have the energy.

He woke again to find Julian crouching next to him, holding a cup of tea. “Time to get up,” he said, his voice low. “We’re going to get food.”

Noel swallowed heavily and willed his stomach to stop churning at the thought of trying to eat anything. He felt like he’d been run over but that was an improvement from the last time he’d been awake, at least. “Great,” he managed after a moment.

Julian laughed, the sound was unbearably piercing, and Noel glared at him. “You want to come with us?” he asked.

The idea of seeing any of Julian’s friends again after embarrassing himself so thoroughly wasn’t appealing. “Erm, I suppose.”

Julian looked at him for a moment before smiling. “I think you impressed them,” he said softly, reaching out to brush some of his hair back from his forehead.

The corner of Noel’s mouth lifted despite himself. “Yeah?”

“You drank your weight in alcohol last night and you’re mostly not dead,” he said. “Yeah, you impressed them. But go and have a shower before we leave because you smell like a vomitorium in a distillery.”

Noel wanted to feel hurt by that, but it was probably true and Julian was smiling at him, so instead he pulled himself out of the bed and peeled off the t-shirt he was wearing. It was Julian’s he realised, once it was in his hand. He wondered again what had happened the night before, but there was no way he was going to ask. “Scrub my back?” he asked instead with a wink, throwing the t-shirt onto the floor at his feet.

“Fuck off,” Julian said, “there’s sick in your hair and I now need to go and burn my favourite t-shirt.” He looked mournfully down at it for a moment before bending to pick it up. “My ex gave me this.”

“It’s awful,” Noel said automatically. The had about four hundred more questions than he knew how to process so instead he just shrugged. “It’s well sad for your favourite t-shirt to be one that someone who dumped you gave you.”

Julian looked almost hurt for a second but then he was rolling his eyes. “How do you know I got dumped?”

“Your mum said it’s always you that gets dumped,” Noel said.

“She lies,” Julian said immediately with all the conviction of someone that had been rehearsing that line for years. “Now get in the shower before I pick you up and dump you in there.”

“Fine,” Noel said, brushing by him and out of the door. 

He felt almost human by the time he was out, towel around his waist and hair dripping. He knew from experience that there wasn’t going to be a hairdryer in the flat, but unstyled was better than having sick in it. He sipped some of the tea Julian had made for him and grimaced as his stomach roiled unhappily.

His jeans were on the bed, along with some clean boxers and another t-shirt. It was massive on him, but he didn’t even want to know what had happened to the one he’d been wearing the night before. He slipped on the clothes that had been left for him and turned to the mirror to try and vainly do something with his hair for a few minutes before giving up and heading toward the kitchen where apparently everyone was still having the time of their lives. 

He paused outside the door, feeling small and silly. He didn’t want to go back in but he wasn’t about to stand around in the hallway either. He took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

“There he is!” someone bellowed as he entered the kitchen. 

Noel winced, his head pounding at the combination of the sun streaming through the windows and the volume of the shout. He felt his face flush as the shout was accompanied by a chorus of whistles and catcalls. He wanted to turn around again, but then Julian was there, throwing an arm around his shoulders.

“Fuck off, Andy,” he said, pulling Noel into his side, “you once threw up into your own suitcase.”

The barb had the intended effect as everyone’s attention was brought back to Andy and away from Noel. Julian didn’t remove his arm as they began to recount the tale of him drinking a bottle of port and then throwing it all up in his suitcase as another friend’s dad drove them all home from a gig. Noel lay he head on Julian’s chest, he was feeling better and better by the second.

****

The room was getting smaller. He watched the walls for a moment, hoping to keep them in place with sheer force of will. But then he had to close his eyes; he was starting to feel lightheaded as his heart continued to pound in his chest, and he needed to concentrate on breathing.

He had to leave for a sound check in a few minutes; he could feel the weight of it barrelling down on him like a physical force. He needed to pull himself together and leave his bedroom. It wasn’t doing him any good to be huddled on his bed with the covers wrapped around his legs, however comforting the weight of them was. 

He needed to leave. 

The thought of it made the tears that had been gathering in the corners of his eyes start to leak out.

“Noel?”

It wasn’t the first time someone had called for him and he didn’t plan on answering anymore than he had the last time.

“Noel, we need to leave.” Paul was being very calm. His voice was steady and patient, but he could hear the tension in his voice. The fear was creeping into the edges of it however hard he tried to pretend he wasn’t bothered. 

It wasn’t ready. 

The thought had been chasing itself around his head for days. The echo of it seemed to be getting louder and louder as he sat there, too scared to even move. 

The show wasn’t nearly ready and Noel felt like the fear had turned into a physical force that was trying to claw right up out of his throat.

He closed his eyes and pulled his knees towards his chest so he could press his forehead against them. 

He just needed a moment to pull himself together. Just another moment and he could get up and go to the theatre with Paul. 

He had been telling himself that over and over for well over an hour. But everytime he tried to make himself move he just couldn’t. He hadn’t realised he’d be this bad. It had been months, maybe a year, since he’d felt anything close to this bad about going on stage.

It wasn’t like he didn’t know the reason for his sudden terror, but it didn’t mean he could do anything about it. 

The first time he’d had to take to a stage alone while Julian was off starring in films it had felt scarier than all the other times before they’d started performing together. Perhaps it was because he hadn’t been expecting it. He’d imagined Julian would be there with him when the dates were booked and he first started thinking about it. So when he’d imagined it, Julian had been there, taking some of the attention, stepping in if Noel forgot a line or got hassled. Only that’s not what ended up happening. Julian went off to become the next Marlon Brando and Noel was left wondering how he’d ever managed to fill a stage on his own.

He took a deep breath in an attempt to gather himself. Or he tried to. His chest constricted painfully around it and he managed only short gasps.

“Noel,” Paul called again. “I’m going to meet you there, okay?”

Julian would have busted into his room by now, he knew. But Paul was still too unsure of his place, unsure when he could push and when he had to back off. Mostly Noel appreciated it; he’d loved having complete control over the show at first. It had felt surprisingly freeing and Paul had given him almost free rein to create something he was happy with.

Finding himself with an entire tour to fill on his own hadn’t been ideal but it had meant he could workshop some material until he was pretty happy with it. Or he’d been happy with it until he’d got to Edinburgh. Now everything seemed shabby and unfinished. He missed Julian’s eye for detail and insistence they worked-shopped an idea until it was fully formed. He missed having him there to check in with on jokes and asides. 

He missed him and there was absolutely no way he’d be able to get on the stage and do an entire gig without him. 

Everything about being in Edinburgh alone felt wrong. He didn’t even seem to fit his own skin here and it felt like everyone could see it. Could see right through him.

He looked down at the phone he’d been grasping tightly in his hand for the last hour. He hadn’t been able to force himself to press any of the buttons but he was getting desperate. 

He was going to miss his own dress rehearsal. He was going to let everyone down.

He tried not to notice that his hands were shaking as he fumbled to unlock the phone and bring up the number. He gripped the plastic case hard until his knuckles turned white and brought it to his ear. His heart was pounding so hard that it felt like it was shaking his whole body.

“Hello?”

He hadn’t been sure he’d answer and was surprised to hear his voice. Julian always managed to sound confused that someone was calling him, even when he was expecting the call. And he probably wasn’t expecting this one. Noel had been trying not to bother him. They were meant to be waiting out the TV execs, waiting for something to happen with The Boosh. There was no need to be working on new material and Noel didn’t know what that meant for them hanging out really. He’d never asked what the rules were. Not that Julian ever told him what any of the rules were. Even when Noel knew he’d installed them, invisible but firm right down to Julian’s core. Julian imposed all sorts of rules on himself that Noel didn’t understand.

“Fielding?”

Noel blinked, trying to think of something to say. Julian was probably about to hang up, thinking it was pocket dial. He took another shuddering breath.

“Noel?” That was a different tone. He’d heard him. It should be embarrassing but that was why he’d called, it was pointless to pretend he was fine now. “Noel, are you okay?”

“I can’t do it,” he whispered.

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. “Noel,” Julian said again. Julian seemed to have a million different ways of saying his name. Noel had yet to find one that didn’t have an almost instantons effect on him. Sometimes it was hysterical laughter and sometimes it was utter fury. Sometimes it made him ready to come in his pants. This one seemed to ease the tightness in his chest. “What’s happened?” 

“I can’t do this,” he repeated. “I can’t do the show.”

“What are you talking about?” Julian’s voice was gentle, even as he was managing to infuse utter incredulity into it. “You’ve been doing it. For months.”

Noel shook his head. It was his own fault. Whenever Julian, when anyone, had asked how things were going Noel had insisted that they were fine. Which they were. Or he’d thought they were. It was only now he could see all the tension he’d been bottling up, like he’d been shaking a coke can for a month and suddenly everything was fizzing out the top and he couldn’t seem to stop it. He felt stupid and small but it didn’t stop the words tumbling out of his mouth. “No, it’s not... Everyone hates it; when I’m on stage they’re all just looking at me waiting for you to come on. I can’t do it; the show’s a mess and I don’t know how to fix it.”

There was a long pause where Noel could only hear the sound of his own ragged breath. “And what does your director have to say about it?” There was a weird tension in Julian’s voice that Noel couldn’t decipher, so he didn’t try.

“Nothing,” he said. “He says it’s fine, but I can tell he’s worried. I don’t know what to do. Everyone’s going to see it and they’ll…” He trailed off. He wasn’t even sure what he was exactly worried about. Bad reviews? Ending his career? Inadvertently ending the Boosh because it was so terrible no one would touch anything associated with it? He wasn’t sure, but the mere thought of a crowd of people expecting something halfway decent made him want to curl up into a ball for the rest of his life.

“Noel,” Julian said, but Noel wasn’t even listening.

“I wish you were here,” he said. He hadn’t meant to. Hadn’t even been aware that’s what he was feeling. “I can’t do this without you.”

“I think we’re going to struggle to come up with a two man show by tomorrow,” Julian said softly.

Noel let out a huff, not really a laugh, but perhaps halfway towards it from the sob he’d been expecting. “I can just give you half my lines.”

“Just the end of your sentences,” Julian said, and Noel could hear his smile in the words. “I’d like that.” It sounded like he meant it.

“I miss you,” he said. “It’s not fun without you.”

“I should think not,” Julian said. “Can’t have you getting ideas about leaving me behind. Not when the Boosh is just about to be commissioned.”

Noel smiled. The Boosh had been in a state of “just about to be commissioned” for years now. It was a running joke and the amusement in Julian’s voice made another small part of him relax.

“The show’s terrible,” Noel said. His voice was firmer now, his tears mostly having stopped. He felt hollow and small but at least the terror was starting to ebb away as they spoke. 

“It’s not,” Julian said. “You’re not capable of producing something terrible.”

The corner of his mouth twitched.

“Where are you?”

Noel took a breath. “In my room.”

“Where should you be?”

“At the theatre.”

There was a long pause. “Go wash your face and eat some toast.”

“What the fuck?” Noel said. “What kinda shit advice is that?”

“Just do it, you little twerp,” he said. “When was the last time you ate anything?”

He didn’t know. The thought hadn’t occurred to him. It must have been the day before but he had no memory of it. “Alright, Mum,” he muttered but dragged himself from the bed anyway. “I’m late for the dress rehearsal.”

“They’ll wait,” Julian said. “Just take a moment. Eat something and then you can go to the dress rehearsal. Then you can go and knock it out of the park tomorrow.” He sounded so sure that Noel could do it. The sort of confidence he only had about other people and on stage was infused in his every word. It shouldn’t really work; Noel had seen Julian be wrong. He’d seen it a lot. He’d seen him throwing up with nerves about their own shows. But it did. He believed him.

“What if I can’t do it?” Noel said, his hand on the handle to his bedroom door. “What if it sucks?”

“It doesn’t,” Julian said. “And if it does, then I’ll help you change your name and leave the country.”

“Will you come with me?” he asked.

“Fuck off,” Julian said. “I’m acting in films; I’m going to be famous. I’m not about to leave the country.” 

Noel laughed again. “Thanks for nothing,” he said, mock offended. “I can’t believe you don’t want to help me in my hour of need.”

“I never said I was nice,” Julian pointed out. “Is the toast on?”

Noel scowled, even though Julian couldn’t see it. “No,” he pouted, although he slouched into the kitchen and popped some bread in as he said it. “You’re such a dad.”

“And you’re a little shit,” he said.

There was a pause where Noel stared at the toaster and listened to Julian breathing. 

“Noel,” Julian said, his voice suddenly agitated. “I’ve got to go. Will you be alright?”

“Yeah,” Noel said. “I’m fine.” It was just an automatic response, but it wasn’t as untrue as it had been a few minutes before. “Where are you?”

“I’m at an audition,” Julian said. “They’re calling me in.”

“Oh,” Noel said, feeling stupid. “Shit, sorry, Ju, I didn’t realise.”

“I know,” he said. “But...” There was another long pause. “Chin up, yeah? It’s just a dress rehearsal. You can do that. Just get through today and we can take it from there.”

“Yeah,” Noel said, not at all minding the mollycoddling, even though he suspected he should. The way Julian said ‘we’ made something ease in his chest, even though he didn’t mean it literally.

“I’ve got to go,” Julian repeated. “Eat the toast, little man.”

Noel stared at the blank screen after Julian hung up feeling silly, relieved and confused all at once. The toast sprang up suddenly, distracting him and he put the phone into his pocket.

The rest of the day was a blur of mild terror bleeding into a sleepless night. He didn’t call Julian again, already feeling stupid for crying down the phone at him. One long-distance panic attack was probably enough for one day.

He woke feeling drained and like the vestiges of his panic attack was lingering at the corners of his room, waiting to surround and overwhelm him at any moment. He’d told Paul to meet him at the theatre for ten and it was already gone nine. He dragged himself from his bed and into the shower.

He had a text by the time he was out and pulling on some clothes.

You at the theatre? Noel smiled down at his phone. Julian knew that Noel liked to spend the day before a gig at the theatre if could. It usually made him feel better, like the extra time in the space might prepare him.

He paused just long enough to type a reply before finishing getting ready and heading out the door. Heading there now. Think I might throw up.

He was standing outside in the sunshine, a smile plastered across his face, chatting to the theatre director and pretending he felt fine, when someone called his name.

It felt for a moment like he’d been struck by lightning. 

He knew that voice, that inflection on his name. He spun on his heel, his mouth falling open in shock before tugging up in sheer amazement.

Julian was squinting in the sun, a backpack thrown over one shoulder and carrier bag in hand. He was wearing a suit that looked like it might have been worn consistently for several days straight, which knowing Julian, was entirely possible. His face was creased with tiredness, but he was grinning at Noel, his smile sly and pleased.

Noel was throwing himself into Julian’s arms like a heronine in a romance novel before he’d even considered it. “Oh my God,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around Julian’s neck and pulling him as close as he could. “Oh my God, you’re here.”

“Of course,” he whispered. “You said you couldn’t do it alone.”

Noel could feel his eyes start to prickle. “Oh my God,” he whispered again. “How are you here? I thought you were auditioning for Hollywood movies.”

“That was yesterday,” Julian said. “Today I’m standing backstage and watching you bring down the roof at your solo Edinburgh show.”

He must have been traveling all night, Noel realised dumbly. Probably since not long after they’d got off the phone. He wanted to laugh. Or possibly burst into uncontrollable sobbing. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, his arms too tight around Julian’s neck. He didn’t want to pull back. “Thank you.”

Julian pulled back. “Of course, little man,” he said, his smile soft. “Anytime.”

****

It wasn’t like they ever planned it. There certainly never seemed any reason why it happened sometimes and not others. They didn’t snog like teenagers every time they were out. Noel didn’t crawl into Julian’s lap every time one of them was sad. Julian didn’t pin Noel to the bed and align their cocks every time they got into a mock arguments over a script.

It was just sometimes. 

Like there’d been a slow build-up of pressure that needed to be released. It was never entirely clear, to Noel at least, when that was going to happen. But sometimes it just had to break and they’d end up like this, with Julian lying over him, his long fingers around Noel’s wrists, staring down at him with an unreadable expression.

Noel had been hard since Julian had shoved his face down onto the pillow in a bid to stop him singing the same one line of a song over and over like he’d been doing for the last ten minutes. The reaction had been instantons and surprising. Sometimes Julian just caught him like that, lust thudding through him like a drum. 

He squirmed under the pressure, twisting and laughing, still managing to breath out some words. “I am electro boy,” he panted, “I am electro girl.” He kicked out, his bare foot connecting with Julian’s shin.

“Oi!” he huffed. “You little shit, you’ll break the laptop.”

Noel laughed, wriggling again out from under Julian’s hand. “That’s the plan!” he panted. “I can’t be shackled to that soulless machine anymore. I’m breaking free.”

“Stop it,” Julian said, even though he was laughing. “You’ll be sorry when we lose the whole thing and have nothing to show the execs next week.”

Noel felt a bit hysterical and he shoved at Julian’s hands, trying to push him off. They hadn’t managed to write anything for the last few days. The deadline for scripts was looming and both of them were starting to get twitchy. They were due a blowout. He could feel the pressure building between them and even though they weren’t actually annoyed with each other, something was going to have to give. All the stress had to go somewhere because it was getting in the way of them being able to write anything.

He giggled and flailed a hand towards Julian, who grabbed his wrist, wrapping his fingers around it and placing it slowly and firmly onto the bed. The new angle meant he was leaning over Noel, his face just inches away.

“Stop it,” he breathed, his eyes tracking over Noel’s face.

Noel stared up at him for a long moment, watching the bob of his throat as he swallowed. He could feel the tension hanging in the air between them, heavy but unarticulated, before he brought up his free hand to tangle in Julian’s hair, messing it up and bringing the curls into disarray.

Julian reached out to grab his other wrist tightly and pulling it away from his hair. Noel was laughing as Julian pushed his second wrist down onto the bed and swung a leg over Noel’s hip, effectively pinning him in place. 

Noel stilled immediately. 

They looked at each other for a moment before Julian frowned down at him.

“We don’t have it,” Noel said. He hadn’t meant to whisper but it came out all quiet, like he didn’t want Julian to really hear him. “The final script is utter shit.”

Julian didn’t answer, but his hands tightened around Noel’s wrists.

“I don’t know what to do,” Noel said, his eyes were starting to sting which was stupid and totally unexpected. “I can’t-”

Julian kissed him. It wasn’t a hard or especially passionate, just a soft press of lips, but Noel went boneless under him immediately. He couldn’t move his arms to wrap around Julian’s back like he wanted to, to bring them closer together, so instead he arched up under him.

They’d been kissing for years. Julian seemed to get a thrill out of freaking people out. Noel just liked it when people were looking at him. He liked it even more when they were looking at them. Looking at them and wondering. He didn’t know why. He didn’t really want to know why. So sometimes they kissed and sometimes it wasn’t always because people were watching them. 

They never talked about it.

He could feel the hard ridge of Julian’s cock through their jeans and it sent a jolt of lust through him, making him twitch. He’d spent years trying to figure out how to get Julian to react to him this way, knowing he’d made him hard was the sexiest thing that ever seemed to happen to him, no matter how many other sexual exploits he tried. But that meant whenever it happened he was so overcome and surprised he couldn’t seem to enjoy it or do anything more than lie there while Julian took him apart. 

Julian pulled back from the kiss to look down at Noel, his face unreadable but eyes focused, like he was looking for something. For once it was Noel that looked away. He didn’t like the question in Julian’s eyes. He wasn’t sure what it meant, but he knew he didn’t want to have to answer it.

Instead he arched up again, rubbing himself against Julian. It made the other man close his eyes and his hands tighten around Noel’s wrists. He felt reckless, wound so tight with worry and a bundle of other emotions that were bound too tightly for him to process. Julian pushed back down onto him making Noel moan. It felt too good, like he if he looked down to where their bodies were touching he’d be able to see sparks flying between them. He hooked a leg around Julian’s body, pulling him closer, suddenly worried that the other man might pull back.

“I need…” he moaned as he squirmed beneath Julian. He felt desperate, so tight and full that he couldn’t think straight. His lashes were wet with tears that he didn’t want to spill out and so he buried his head in Julian’s neck.

“Shhhh,” Julian whispered, pulling back so he could look down at him again. He let go of one of his wrists to reach out to smooth Noel’s fringe out of his eyes. “It’s okay.”

Neither of them moved for a long moment, but Noel was never any good at either patience or impulse control. He felt ready to crawl right out of his own skin. He hitched his hips up again.

“Ju,” he whispered.

The other man nodded, dropping a kiss on Noel’s forehead before pulling up and bracing himself on one arm. He watched Noel intently as he reached down between them, as though searching for something in Noel’s face. Noel closed his eyes and bit his lip.

Julian’s hand was deft as it slid down his fly and popped the top button in his jeans.

“Fuck,” Noel breathed, relief flooding him as Julian wrapped a hand around him. He was bucking before he even had time to think about it, reaching out and pulling Julian closer. His mouth was wet and panting where it was buried in the crook of Julian’s neck. “Please,” he whispered, not even sure what he was asking for. “Julian, please.”

“I know,” Julian answered, moving his hand in long, sure strokes and dropping kisses onto the bits of Noel’s head and face that he could reach. “It’s okay.”

Noel reached out blindly, pulling at Julian’s t-shirt so he could slide his hands underneath it. His fingers curled as he pushed up to meet the strokes of Julian’s hand, fingernails briefly catching and pulling down the smooth skin of Julian’s back. Neither of them spoke, the room filled with Noel’s harsh breathing. 

It was too much. It felt like he’d been waiting for this for years. He didn’t know what to do with all the sensations and so he bit his lip hard and thrust up into Julian's clever hand. 

His orgasm hit him all at once, like a wave washing over him – all-consuming and disorientating. His eyes were wet again when he blinked them back open.

Julian was still above him, pressing down against him and Noel could feel the outline of his cock against his hip, hard and hot even through the layers of fabric between them. He wanted to form some words but he was utterly wrung out. 

Julian dropped a final kiss on his forehead and withdrew his hand, wiping it on Noel’s boxers as he went. He rolled over, pulling Noel into a tight hug. There didn’t seem anything to do but wrap his arms around Julian in return. They lay panting for a long moment while Noel seemed to float in a sort of orgasm haze. The tension seemed to have drained out of him leaving him exhausted.

He opened his eyes to find Julian looking at him, his gaze steady. Noel watched him back. The moment was over, he knew it was, but that didn’t stop him reaching for Julian’s belt with shaky hands. It didn’t surprise him when Julian caught and stilled them. It did surprise him, however, when he brought them to his lips and kissed them softly. He smiled at Noel, his eyes heavy.

“Sleep,” Julian whispered. “There’s work to do tomorrow.”

Noel didn’t protest, there was no point, instead shifting over so he could he bury his face into Julian’s chest. Julian didn’t protest the contact like he half thought he might, instead wrapping an arm around Noel and pulling him close.

Noel fell into a fitful sleep, his one hand clutching Julian’s t-shirt and the other resting over his heart.

***

Noel had a spare key to Julian’s room; they’d always done that, when they stopped having to share a room. It made sense for them to be able to come and go as they needed, they were always leaving things behind, or needing to rehearse, or - if Noel was being totally honest - missing each other. They didn’t use them at night. It was one of those silent agreements they had. Maybe it wasn’t weird to always give your comedy partner a spare key to your hotel room, but it was certainly weird to use it at night because you wanted a cuddle.

He knew that. It was weird. Just because Noel was pretty sure that he was dying was no reason to go running to Julian. It was no reason to breach the trust that he’d put in Noel by allowing him access to his personal space; something that Julian guarded jealously. There was no reason for him to be padding down the hall at four in the morning, feet bare and heart beating hard in his chest.

He was doing it anyway.

He stood outside the door for a long time. He thought it was probably a long time. It felt like a decade, but time was still moving strangely along with the lights in the hallways. They were pulsating in time with his heart. That wasn’t right. That was very, very wrong. It probably meant something very bad.

Julian was going to be furious. He was probably going to shout and then he was going to chuck Noel out of his room and maybe never speak to him again.

It didn’t stop him from putting the key card into the slot and watching the light turn green. That was permission enough. He pushed open the door.

The light from the hallway illuminated the room enough for Noel to make out the bed and the mound of covers to the far side, before the door clicked shut behind him. Julian always slept like that; curled into himself like he was protecting himself from something. Perhaps it was just being a lanky teenager and spending too much time in too small beds. Or maybe Julian’s dreams were out to get him.

Noel walked across the room and crawled onto the bed. Julian was a light sleeper and the moment the mattress dipped he rolled over.

“Noel?” His voice was roughened by sleep into a whisper.

Noel didn’t answer, just continued to crawl until he was at Julian’s side. The other man reached out to click on the bedside light. He stared at Noel for a long moment and then silently opened his arms. Relief flooded Noel and he sank down onto Julian’s chest immediately. They lay together for a few moments before Noel reached out and clicked off the light again. It was better in the dark without the light pulsing around him in time with the erratic beating of his heart. 

“What have you taken?” Julian asked into the top of Noel’s head; he could feel the words vibrate through his chest.

Noel shrugged, nuzzling into Julian’s chest, breathing in the smell of him. He felt safer but his heart refused to slow down.

Julian didn’t push it, perhaps satisfied with the tacit agreement that Noel was high. It was a good description of how he was feeling. He felt untethered, like he was gently coming apart at the seams, ready to fly into a million pieces and float up into the sky. Julian’s arms tightened around him as though he knew it too.

“You need anything?” Julian asked after a long time, when it became clear that neither of them were actually sleeping.

Noel shrugged again, screwing his eyes shut. He could see the outline of the window through the curtains where the light was leaking into the room. Perhaps that’s where the terror was coming from too. “It feels like the world might be ending,” he whispered into Julian’s chest, dragging the words up painfully from his chest. 

Julian’s arms tightened around him. “It’s not.”

Noel knew that. He knew it just felt like it but that wasn’t helping him feel any better. “Everything’s too big and loud,” he said, not sure how else to explain it.

“I know.” Julian kissed the top of his head. “Just try and sleep. It’ll be better in the morning.”

“No it won’t,” Noel whispered. “It’s never better in the morning. It’s always worse.”

Julian didn’t have anything to say to that or nothing he wanted to share. Instead his fingers traced patterns down Noel’s back, up over this shoulder and down his arm. It was soothing, even through the haze of terror.

“We’re losing it,” Noel said. “I can feel it slipping out of my hands and the harder I try to hold on, the worse it’s getting.”

Julian’s hand paused, his fingertips hovering just over Noel’s bicep. “That’s not how this works,” he said in the end.

“No?”

“No,” he agreed, his fingers back to tracing patterns. “It’s like the tide or sun coming up. Sometimes it seems like that, like maybe it’s gone forever, but it always comes back. It’s physics or something.”

“Or chemistry,” Noel said, remembering something Julian had said in one of thousands of interviews they’d done over the last few months.

“One of sciences, yes,” Julian said, shifting to drop a kiss on Noel’s temple. “It’s not going away, even when it feels like it. You just have to be patient.”

“You don’t know me at all,” Noel huffed.

He felt the curve of Julian’s lips where they were resting against his temple. “Yes I do. I know every bit of you.”

“Yeah,” Noel agreed. “I hate it sometimes. I hate-” He stopped himself from finishing his sentence because he didn’t come into Julian’s room to fight. Or maybe he did. He was never sure.

“I know you do,” Julian said. “That’s okay too. It won’t always be like that.”

Noel gathered all of his courage and forced the words out that had been trapped in his chest for days. Weeks. Months. Maybe a decade. “When you leave,” Noel breathed, “will you come back?”

The silence seemed to extend for several moments before Julian spoke again, his words soft but certain. “Depends on if the window’s still open.”

Noel smiled. “I ain’t Wendy.”

“Sometimes you are,” Julian replied, tightening his arm around Noel’s shoulder. “And sometimes you’re Peter.”

That sounded right. It didn’t make sense, but it felt like it did.

“Okay,” Noel said into the darkness. An agreement that felt more like a pact or an oath. “Okay. Good.”

“Okay,” Julian repeated. The words settled into Noel’s chest, soothing over the terror.

He took a deep breath and placed his hand over Julian’s heart, feeling it beat steadily against his palm.

*****

“Noel?” Julian called into the darkened room.

The sound of his voice made Noel lift his head; it had felt too heavy to do that for a few hours but the surprise of the sudden sound in the quiet of the room sent a jolt of adrenaline through him. He’d called him an hour ago but hadn’t expected him to be able to track him down quite so quickly or for him to come without being asked, in truth, he hadn’t really expected him to come at all.

It was late, probably nearing three. But maybe he’d already been awake when Noel had called in a panic, unsure what to do or where to go. Julian had kept strange hours even before the twins.

Noel didn’t move from where he was sitting on the floor, knees drawn up to his chest, staring down at a half-finished canvas at his feet. He’d thought about finishing it on his way to the studio but once he’d got it out, his mind had gone completely blank. Instead he’d just looked at it, unable to think of how it ought to look. 

Julian’s shoes came into view above the picture. Noel hated those boots, they were falling apart and somehow managed to never go with a single thing Julian wore. He stared at them feeling powerless and furious, his hands balling and flexing over his knees.

“She throw you out?” The ‘again’ was silent but all the more powerful for that.

Noel looked up, swallowing heavily, wanting to see his expression; perhaps he’d find contempt there, or even pleasure, it wasn’t like Noel didn't deserve it. 

He’d half thought he’d be able to keep it together when he told Julian about it, but Julian’s face was etched into a mask of such sadness that Noel’s eyes filled with tears and he had to look away.

He took a shuddering breath. “I can’t do it anymore,” he said. At least he wasn’t a complete sobbing mess like the first time this had happened. There were few things more pathetic than being chucked by your girlfriend and having nowhere to go because all your friends were mutual and probably thought she was right to never want to see you again. But being a big baby about it probably counted.

Julian sighed and crouched down. “I know,” he said, like he really did.

He didn’t though; he couldn’t possibly know how it felt not to be wanted anymore by someone who he’d loved for nearly ten years. He couldn’t know how it felt to have messed everything up and be totally alone. He didn’t bother to point any of that out, there was no point.

“It’s over,” Noel said. It was redundant, Julian clearly knew that, otherwise he wouldn’t be there. But it felt like he had to say it. Had to make it real.

“I know,” Julian said again, his hand coming out to hover over Noel’s arm, as though unsure if the touch was wanted.

Noel wondered if it was. Sometimes it felt like Julian’s touches burnt him now.

“You can’t stay here,” Julian said, withdrawing his hand and resting it on his own thigh. “Come back to mine.”

Noel shook his head. “No,” he said. “It’s fine, I’ll just…” He trailed off and gestured vaguely, with no idea how to finish the sentence. He had no other real options. 

“Noel,” Julian said. “Come on, there’s not even a bed here.”

He closed his eyes and balled his hands into fists. “I can’t sleep there,” he said. He didn’t know how to explain it, didn’t know how to say that he couldn’t bare to sleep in a house where Julian was just a few feet away but unreachable. He couldn’t sleep in the place that Julian had created to get away from him. If it was possible to feel more alone than he did already, it would be by sleeping in Julian’s fucking spare room.

Julian let out a long breath. It wasn’t a huff of annoyance like Noel had suspected it would be. Instead he shifted, sort of inelegantly toppling sideways so he was splayed on the floor and then scooted backwards so his back was against the wall, his shoulder nearly brushing Noel’s. They stayed like that for a few minutes while Noel looked at his knees. There was a paint smudge on one of them.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” he said. “I can’t get you to even text back most of the time.”

Julian froze, then let out a slow breath. “It’s not going to work,” he said, his voice maddingly level and gentle. “I’m not arguing with you. I know you’re angry, but that’s not why I’m here.”

Noel sniffed and tried to blink back his tears. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I know,” Julian said again.

Noel wanted to laugh, although he wasn’t sure at what. It came out shaky and closer to a sob than he’d have liked.

Julian’s arm came out and rested across his shoulder, his hand splaying across Noel’s neck for a moment before tugging him toward him.

“I’m gross,” Noel protested. He hadn’t slept in days and he needed a shower and change of clothes. But he wasn’t strong enough in any of the important ways to stop Julian pulling him into his chest. 

He kissed the top of Noel’s head, his hand tugging gently at the roots of his hair at the bottom of his neck. It was soothing, but it also made Noel want to start sobbing.

“I can get you some of your stuff tomorrow,” he said.

“She was throwing things when I left,” Noel said, not sure if he was trying to warn him or just wanting to tell him.

“I’m very agile,” Julian said. “I’ll weave out of the way.”

Noel let out another pathetic little laugh. “You’re gonna get your head caved in.”

Julian huffed another laugh and ran his hand up and down Noel’s arm gently. “Come back to mine tonight,” he said again. He sounded sad and it made Noel’s chest tight.

Noel shook his head. “I can’t,” he whispered, starting to feel a bit desperate and panicked. “Please don’t make me, not tonight.”

Julian let out a long breath. “Okay,” he said, his voice heavy with an emotion Noel wasn’t in any state to decipher. “Okay,” he said again. He kissed the top of Noel’s head again. “It’s okay.”

“It’s really not,” Noel said. “I’m homeless.”

“That flat’s still for sale,” Julian said mildly, like he was commenting on the weather. “The one just over from me?”

Noel lifted his head to stare at him. “Yeah?” he asked, something like hope unfurling in his chest. “You’d want me that close?”

“Better able to keep an eye on you that way,” Julian said, with a lift of his eyebrows. “We could write the show without having to leave the house; just shout across the street.”

Noel felt his mouth curve up. “It’s like moving to the countryside,” he said, just for something to say.

“Hmmm,” Julian agreed. “There’s a tennis court right next door.”

“Yeah?” Noel said, even though he knew there was. They’d played there a few weeks ago. He dropped his head onto Julian’s shoulder, suddenly so tired he didn’t think he could keep his head up even if he tried. “I can’t see the future.”

“I know,” Julian said softly. “But tomorrow you might be able to or the day after.”

“Will you be there?” Noel asked.

“Come on,” Julian said. “Don’t be silly. You’re moving next door. I’ll be closer than ever.”

The lie made Noel’s eyes fill with tears and he closed them tightly. “I fucked it all up,” he said.

“It happens,” Julian said softly.

He was grateful that he didn’t try and deny it, even though it stung a bit. “I’m sorry,” he sniffed. “I keep fucking up and I can’t seem to stop.”

“Not all the time,” Julian said. “Sometimes things just end. They have to.”

“Everything?” he asked, feeling pitiful for even saying it. 

“No,” Julian said slowly. “Not everything. But some things; that’s just how they’re built.”

“How can you tell which ones are which?” he asked, lifting his head to stare at Julian. It was too dark to make out his expression, but he could tell he looked serious. 

“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “I think you just do.” 

Noel didn’t know. He never had; knowing when things were ending was not his speciality. It wasn’t until everything was lying around him in broken shards that it became clear.

“I’m scared,” he said. While not specific, it certainly articulated his overriding emotion. 

“I know,” Julian said. “Things are changing, they always do and I know it hurts but it won’t always.” 

“I know,” Noel said, even though he didn’t. 

“Don’t cry,” Julian said after a moment. Noel hadn’t even realised he was. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I’m not,” he said. 

“Yeah,” Julian agreed. “But you will be. I promise you will.” 

“Don’t go,” Noel said, gripping Julian’s arm tightly. It was a selfish thing to ask. The twins were so young and Julia was meant to be rehearsing for some play or something. But he asked anyway. He couldn’t stop himself. 

Julian tensed, and Noel held himself still, his fingers digging into Julian’s arm. Slowly, the other man relaxed. “Okay,” he said. “But you’re paying for the chiropractor when my back’s fucked tomorrow morning.” 

Noel let out a surprised laugh. “Okay,” he said.

Julian tugged at Noel, getting him to lie down, his head pillowed in Julian’s lap. His hand went to Noel’s hair, carding through it, his fingers digging into his scalp as they went. Noel arched up into the touch. 

“What you thinking?” Noel asked after a moment. He needed to sleep, but knew he wouldn’t. 

“Nothing,” Julian lied, like he always did. There was a long pause. 

“Talk to me,” Noel said eventually. 

“About what?” Julian asked, probably unaccustomed to having to carry the conversation when it was just them. 

“Anything,” he said. “It doesn’t matter, I just don’t want to think.” 

“Hmmm,” Julian said, softly. “I read this story to the boys last night. Fucking mental.” 

Noel let the words wash over him, closing his eyes as Julian’s fingers ran through his hair. 

****

“Children used to be raised by an entire village.”

Noel felt the words rumble down Julian’s body as he spoke. He opened an eye slowly to look up at him. He’d been asleep, or close enough to it for the difference not to matter; he wasn’t sure when it happened. One moment he’d been laying his head down on Julian’s lap to chat about Old Man Boosh and the next Julian’s words were startling him awake.

He’d missed being able to seek Julian out for a nap, as the Boosh got bigger there never seemed to be time for it. There didn’t seem to be time for a lot of things.

He watched Julian, waiting for him to continue. Julian didn’t look at him, his focus on the bundle of blankets in the crook of his arm. His other hand was still playing with Noel’s hair and it was making it hard to keep his eyes open.

“Community child-rearing. No one really knew which kid was whose.”

“I’m not letting you keep Dali,” he said softly in the end. “Speak to Julia if you’re broody.”

Julian smiled softly. “Yeah,” he said. “She’d love that.”

Noel closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them again. There was something else. He could feel it; Julian was building up to some point he wanted to make. Noel liked to try and guess what that might be sometimes, but it was hard. While Julian was logical, he sometimes took some very radical turns right at the end of his thinking that left Noel utterly baffled.

“It was probably easier,” Julian continued as though Noel hadn’t spoken. “Everyone could get some sleep, the kids got a range of influences. Lots of positives.”

Noel nodded, trusting that Julian would be able to feel it. He didn’t want to speak and risk ruining the moment because he didn’t know what Julian wanted him to say. A peace had settled between them recently that had been missing for years. An ease, might be more accurate, really. Ever since Julian had started coming over to help with the baby.

It wasn’t that Noel needed Julian when Liliana wasn’t around. He loved having Dali all to himself. The early mornings when it was just the two of them were some of the best experiences of his life. But, having Julian around made him feel more relaxed. Their friends had often joked that Julian was a baby whisper and that seemed to be true. Julian would just scoop her out of Noel’s arms and one trip around the flat later, she was either asleep or peacefully gazing up at him. Like father like daughter really.

So when she’d started crying and crying that morning, he’d known if didn’t have to call Julian. She’d have calmed eventually. But it felt a bit like he’d never slept in his life and might be losing his mind. He could hear Julian’s smile over the phone and he’d been at Noel’s door ten minutes later.

Noel flopped onto the sofa unable to keep his eyes open even to watch Julian weave his magic. He’d felt the dip of the cushions as Julian and Dali joined him a few minutes later. Or maybe it’d been hours. Time was hard to keep track of since she’d been born.

“The nuclear family is a really new invention,” Julian continued softly. “Plenty of people raise kids communally, they find ways to make it work.”

It wasn’t like Julian was exactly Mr Traditional. In some ways he was more out there than Noel. He’d certainly been more relaxed about drugs and drinking. And who he was having sex with. But it still sometimes surprised Noel when he came out with things like that. He was never sure how he was meant to react. Julian said it like a simple statement of fact but there often seemed to be something else, just hanging in the air between them. Invisible but solid.

“Shoulda just had a Boosh baby.” Noel nodded eventually, tone carefully neutral. “Like a real one, not just the show. Imagine it just running about backstage. No one really knowing if it’s your’s or mine or Dave’s.”

Julian melted back into the sofa, closing his eyes. Noel had passed whatever the test might have been.

“Yeah, Boosh TV, Boosh album, Boosh exhibition and coming soon: Boosh Baby.” The words drifted out across the room, painting an almost crystal clear image in their wake. Julian smiled at the thought, and Noel immediately felt his mouth mirroring the motion. There was another long pause. Long enough for Noel to close his eyes again.

“Could have just been ours,” Julian muttered, quietly. It was the type of quiet that Noel knew well, one that meant it was possible Julian didn’t want Noel’s input. He was saying the words more for himself than for any reaction or commentary.

Not that Noel knew what he’d even say. What was there to say? He could point out that, despite the jokes, he wasn’t actually able to carry Julian’s babies. No matter how often he’d found himself thinking about it. Well, not exactly that, but perhaps Julian and him in a more domestic setting. A real one. Like he’d gone off to create with Julia. Just the two of them, or maybe sometimes there would be three of them, almost exactly like this. Just another family dozing together on a sunny Saturday morning. It had never occurred to him that Julian might have thought about anything similar. He’d never mentioned it. Never given Noel the opportunity of turning it down or leaping into his arms and asking where the nearest adoption agency was.

“Could have,” Noel agreed in the end because what was the point in denying it? It wasn’t like both of them hadn’t had to come to terms with that over the last decade. There might have been a million very valid reasons it wasn’t them. But that didn’t mean it couldn’t have been. Not really.

It made his chest tight to think about. An almost panicked feeling he didn’t want to look at too closely. It wouldn’t do anything. There was no point in thinking about it. In wishing. He wasn’t even sure he wanted that. Wasn’t sure he’d change anything if he could.

Dali chose that moment to flail a tiny hand and gurgle happily. Julian smiled down at her, reaching out a finger which she immediately grabbed. It made for an unfeasibly sweet picture; her tiny hand grabbing one of Julian’s giant fingers.

“Could have,” Julian muttered, “should have.” He wriggled his finger, making a series of more and more ridiculous faces. Dali screeched with laughter.

Noel closed his eyes. And smiled.

THE END


End file.
